


A Fitting Punishment

by KinkMemeMary



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Body Modification, Breast Expansion, Lactation, M/M, Punishment, magical transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-20 16:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9499367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinkMemeMary/pseuds/KinkMemeMary
Summary: Carver has been staring at Isabella's chest a bit too much and compounds this by drunkenly groping Merrill. The ladies decide to teach him a lesson by causing him to grow breasts of his own... that begin lactating.None of the male companions have much sympathy for Carver, but Anders decides he should at least keep hydrated, so starts switching Carver's beer for his water. As he gets progressively drunk, the healer helps himself to a feel of Carver.(Tagged non-con for the groping and body modification.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme prompt: Carver (Carver/any) - non-con body modification, lactation/milking
> 
> Carver has been acting like a tit and one of the mages decides to punish him by casting a spell that causes him to grow a pair of (lactating) mammaries.
> 
> +some public humiliation  
> +if Carver has a LI who finds it hot or Carver gets a LI because of the incident  
> http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15195.html?thread=60328539#t60328539  
> \---
> 
> I've gone for Anders with Carver but don't really feel this as a love-ship; usually the only person I'd ship him with would be Merrill, but that wouldn't be appropriate here. I hope the original prompter will find this in the spirit of their prompt. Apologies if anyone is a bit OOC; I've not written Carver before and making him be enough of a tit to warrant the punishment but not having anyone outright punch him was a challenge.

Carver couldn't help staring at Isabella's breasts. They were so big, and just... on display like that. Perhaps he had been doing it rather a lot, but...

"Hey, eyes up here, Baby Hawke," the pirate said, with a tone of exasperation that would have made him embarrassed but...

"Oh, come on," he said, trying for his best winning smile - not that he'd ever achieve the kind of easy charisma Hawke mastered, but the six pints of ale he'd had probably didn't help. "If you didn't want people to look, you wouldn't dress like that."

Isabella quirked an eyebrow as though he had fallen into some sort of trap, but whatever she'd been about to say was cut off when Merrill spoke: "Dressed like what? She's wearing clothes isn't she? I don't understand."

Carver flushed. He might have been enjoying following the curve of Isabella's plentiful bust, but he didn't want Merrill to get the wrong idea. He'd always had a soft spot for the little elf, even if 'little' was the operative word. "Hey," he said, putting an arm around her easily. "Don't get jealous - yours are small, but they're perfectly formed!" he gave her left breast a little squeeze for emphasis.

Merrill gasped, and somehow the atmosphere of good humour and teasing evaporated. Isabella slapped his arm from Merrill's shoulders and pulled her away from the table. "Come on, Kitten, we have better places to be."

"What did I do?" Carver slurred.

Varric gave him a hard look. "Something you won't get much sympathy for around here. Be thankful Aveline isn't about and you still have hands." Varric looked determinedly away from him and addressed Sebastian: "So, Choir Boy, how's Andraste doing these days?"

Sebastian was looking very red, but appeared adequately distracted and confused by Varric's change in tack. "Ah, well, I believe. At the Maker's side?"

Isabella had taken Merrill away to a table in the corner. Their heads were close together, muttering. "Oh, I couldn't!" he heard Merrill exclaim.

"Oh, I think you could," Isabella replied, catching his eye briefly.

"I... I guess that was a little clumsy," Carver said. "I should apologise..."

Varric snorted, but continued looking pointedly away from him.

"I'll apologise," Carver said, getting up, swaying a little on his feet.

He wandered over and stood by the two women. They looked up with faces that encouraged him to be somewhere else.

"Sorry," he said. "I guess I had one too many."

"Oh," said Isabella. "And what was your excuse for ogling me all day yesterday, and the one before that, and the week before that. I have a nice body, but I'm not a piece of meat."

He rolled his eyes. "For goodness sake. I'm sorry to Merrill. I still don't know what you're complaining about. You clearly enjoy the attention."

"I enjoy it on my terms," she said, coldly, then turned to Merrill. "You definitely could," she said, cryptically.

The look Merrill gave him almost made him feel like he was in the wrong. "Yes, Izzy, I think you're right." She waved a hand at him and he felt a shiver pass through him. He knew where he wasn't wanted.

"Fine, then," he said. "Suit yourself."

Isabella's voice followed him as he made his way back to the table: "Oh, we will."

Carver was aware that he was maybe a little too drunk, but feeling somewhat hard done by he decided he really deserved another drink. As he went to the bar, he rubbed at his chest, which seemed unusually sore. Maybe he'd gone at it a little hard at practice today.

Dismissing it, he made his way back to the table where the others were gathered just as Anders arrived. The Healer watched Carver's slightly weaving walk thoughtfully and swapped Carver's ale for his water the moment he set it down. "I've only just got here, and I can tell you've had enough. Time to sober up a little."

"Hey!" Carver exclaimed. "I bought that!"

"Yeah, and I think Blondie's doing you a favour. Drink your water, Junior," Varric said.

Carver sighed. Perhaps one glass of water wouldn't be so bad. He allowed conversation to flow around him for a while. He could tell he'd somehow managed to piss off everyone except Anders. How was it that when Hawke teased and flirted it always seemed to go so much better?

As he drank, he rubbed at his chest periodically. Maybe he should ease up on his routine a bit. He shouldn't be this sore. His muscles felt positively swollen. He almost didn't notice when Merrill and Isabella returned - being careful to sit at the other end of the table from him.

He tried a couple of times to rejoin the conversation, but people seemed to be mostly ignoring him. Except for Isabella, who he caught staring at him with what almost looked like interest more than once.

Finally he drained his water and went to go find the piss-hole.

When he returned he was surprised to find that everyone was looking at him curiously.

"Doing OK, Carver?" Isabella asked, a hint of mockery in her voice, though he couldn't guess about what.

"Fine," he muttered.

Anders shoved another cup of water under his nose when he sat down. "You're going to need it," he said, looking Carver up and down consideringly.

"Fine, yes, OK," he said. "I drank too much. I'm sorry. I'll sober up."

Isabella snorted, but said nothing.

It wasn't until around the time his brother arrived that Carver began to get a sense of what was going on. His chest was getting to be rather more than swollen. He could hardly stop himself from rubbing at it, but doing so gave him precious little relief. Hawke caught him at it as he sat down.

"Something the matter, little brother?" he asked, sliding in next to him.

Isabella began cackling. Hawke tilted his head at her, then looked down to Carver's chest. Suddenly, Hawke's hand replaced his own, cupping what was now very tender flesh. "Say... you seem to have a bit more up here than usual."

Carver looked down. Hawke brought his other hand up, pushing the sides of his chest together... revealing a distinctly noticeable cleavage. Carver felt heat rising in his cheek and brushed his brother's hands away. Isabella was practically wailing now.

"Isabella," Hawke said, warningly. "What have you done?"

" _Me_ ," she said, between laughs. " _I've_ done nothing."

"Nothing he didn't deserve," Varric chimed in.

Carver's own hands lifted up irresistibly to explore his chest. He couldn't deny it anymore. It wasn't the muscular chest of a male warrior he was feeling, these were very definitely breasts. Small, still, but breasts nonetheless.

"I'm not sure this was an appropriate form of punishment," Sebastian said, uneasily.

Carver glared around the table. "You all _knew_?" A collection of shrugs and smiles met him around the table.

"She told us while you were in the John," Varric said.

"Sorry," Merrill said.

"No, no, Kitten," Isabella said, sobering a bit. "You don't apologise to _him_." She turned to Hawke. "Your little brother's been unable to keep his eyes inside his head for a while now, and today he decided to cop a feel of our little flower. He deserves everything that's coming to him and we're all going to let the spell run it's course, aren't we?" She looked pointedly at Anders.

He held up his hands. "Don't look at me. Justice happens to think it's quite fitting. I just thought he needed to stay hydrated, that's all."

"'Runs its course'?" Carver said. "How bad is this gonna get? How long's it gonna last?"

Hawke folded his arms, looking none too pleased. "I honestly thought better of you than that, Carver. I think you can just wait and see how long it lasts and how bad it gets. Mother raised you better than this and you're going to take your punishment."

Carver flushed red at the mention of his mother. He didn't like to admit that Hawke might be right, but that comment stung. Mother would be horrified. And sure enough, there was no way he was going home to either mother of - heaven forbid - Gamlen until this spell had run its course. "Fine," he said, bitterly. "But I've had enough water." He stomped to the bar and ordered another beer, tugging at the sides of his tunic, hoping his breasts weren't too noticeable yet.


	2. Chapter 2

When he sat back down, Carver felt a definite _jiggle_. Putting his cup down, he raised an exploratory hand, ignoring Isabella's snigger.

Definitely a breast, now. Breasts. A comfortable handful. He thought he could still sort of hide it if he leant forwards - his shirt was loose enough for that, but he didn't know how long that was lost. It was clear that Isabella's - Merrill's - punishment of him was far from at its fulfillment.

The worst thing was he found himself sort of wanting to enjoy it. Here was a pair of breasts that no one could stop him touching or complain about him looking at... but if he did they'd certainly make him regret it.

He went to drink his beer, but found that Anders had snatched it from his grasp again.

"Hey!"

Anders poured half into his half-drunk water cup, then passed the watered down beer back. "I mean it. You need to stay hydrated."

"Whilst you drink beer that I bought," he said.

Anders shrugged. "I've explained to Justice that we cannot let it go to waste." Anders dropped him a wink. For the briefest moment, Anders' eyes skirted downwards, and Carver flushed to realise the mage was checking out the line of his bust.

His bust. Maker. He took a swig of his watered down beer.

Carver kept quiet as mostly normal conversation flowed around him, enduring the fact that all of his friends - even Sebastian on occasion - dropped their gaze from time to time to see how he was 'developing'.

He tried not to be self-conscious about it. He knew that's what Isabella wanted. But he almost fancied he could feel them growing. He itched to drop his hands down and check on the size of his breasts for himself. But every time he started to lift his hand to do so, Isabella seemed to know, and she instantly burst out laughing.

Eventually, he gave up hunching over and trying to hide his developments. Even from the odd glances he allowed himself, he could tell that that trick was no longer working. As he sat up straight and his mounds projected out before him, he heard Anders' intake of breath beside him.

The mage had continued to insist on drinking half his beer, whilst watering down whatever Carver had in his cup. And given that Anders rarely drank much himself these days, Carver suspected he was getting rather inebriated.

"Andraste's knickers!" Anders exclaimed, staring at Carver's chest. "How big are they gonna get?"

Merrill shrugged, her innocent expression a little more difficult to swallow, given recent events. "At least as big as Isabella's," she said. "And then maybe a little more."

Carver stared at her. "More?"

"Well," she said. "I don't quite now how much the rest of the spell will affect that."

"'The rest of the spell'?" Carver demanded. "What rest of the spell?"

"Patience, Carver," Isabella said. "You'll find out soon enough."

Carver jumped then, at the feel of fingers rubbing along the underside of one of his breasts. He shivered, and his nipples immediately tightened in response. The sensation made him gasp.

"Sorry," Anders apologised. "Didn't mean to make you jump."

Carver realised he should have pushed the other man's hand away, but he was frozen in surprise at the unfamiliar feeling.

When Anders raised his hand and cupped it with his full palm, Carver felt heat flood him, surprised to find his cock twitching in response.

"Anders," Hawke said, warningly. "That is my little brother."

Anders removed his hand. "Sorry... sorry... I just thought I should examine it... you know... for medical reasons."

"Need I remind you, Hawke, that Carver wasn't exactly shy with Merrill earlier," Isabella said, a note of warning in her voice.

"I suppose you're right," Hawke surprised him by saying. "But maybe we should move somewhere more private. I don't need passing bar-flies copping a feel of my brother. Varric?"

The dwarf nodded. "Right you are, Hawke. Let's take it somewhere more private, shall we?"

Carver supposed he should be doing more to stand up for himself, rather than letting his friends talk about him like he wasn't there. But in all honesty, he was rather preoccupied by the memory of Anders' hand on the strange, giving flesh that now hung from him. He'd quite like to get better acquainted with that smooth, soft flesh himself. But apparently he'd happily settle for the feeling of one blond mage playing with him.

So it was that, when they retreated to Varric's rooms, Carver was unresistant to being pulled into the mage's lap, Anders' head resting on his shoulder, his hands coming up to gently cup and manipulate his chest.

Varric chortled. "Ho, ho, ho. How are you gonna play Wicked Grace like that, Anders?"

Anders sighed, contentedly, and Carver could smell the beer - his beer - on the mage's breath. "Carver can if he likes, I'm busy."

Carver couldn't help leaning back into Anders grasp, surprised by how turned on he was to find something hard and long resting against his butt cheeks.

Then, Anders squeezed his nipples, and although it was by no means an unpleasant, Carver decided it was time to put in at least a token of protest. "Hey!" he exclaimed, earning a chuckled from Isabella.

"Not ready yet, then?" Anders asked. "Alright." He went back to gently cupping Carver's mounds, whilst Varric dealt for them.

Apparently he really was going to play Wicked Grace whilst the possessed mage felt him up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver's breasts begin to lactate...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Carver is not wearing any of his stock clothes in this. A shirt that helpfully laces up at least part of his front is just... more fun.

They were well into the second hand by the time Carver began to have a suspicion as to what the other part of the spell was.

His breasts had become quite large by that point - as Merrill had suggested, bigger then Isabella's. Carver found himself rather glad of Anders' support, although the mage's gentle manipulation of his flesh was rather... distracting. As was the sight of it, ever present in the bottom of his field of view, forming impressive cleavage through the lacings of his shirt as he held his hands together to sort through his cards. He was thankful the material had been fairly loose to begin with, but found himself increasingly concerned that if the growth didn't stop he might run into trouble.

As Anders gave his breasts another _squeeze_ he groaned at the ache within him. He was becoming quite sensitive. It was not a little painful, and yet he had to admit there was something delicious to the pain. He felt so tremendously _full_ , his skin feeling stretched and tight.

Laying his card down, he loosened the laces and sighed with relief.

Isabella wolf-whistled and Carver was acutely aware of five sets of eyes staring at the deep, pink cleavage revealed. His brother coughed and looked away.

"Carver, don't get indecent now," Hawke said, reddening.

"It's not _my_ fault," Carver complained. "Why don't you tell _her_ a little something about decency." He glared at Isabella.

Something flashed in the pirate's eyes. "Give him another squeeze, Anders."

The hand on his right breast pressed fingers into his tight round flesh, and Carver moaned, wriggling involuntarily against Anders' prick.

The sense of pressure building inside him. Then Anders stroked forward, firmly, and it was like something... let down inside him. The tiniest amount of release... and something... wet? At his nipple?

He looked down and saw a damp patch spreading.

Isabella let out a 'whoop' of delight as he stared in disbelief at the darker patch on his white shirt.

"What... what did you do to me?" Carver said.

"Again! Again!" Isabella shouted over him, and Anders pulled surely but firmly on his other breast.

He moaned again - it felt _so good_. He was so tight, so full. He needed this pressure to... to get something out of him and...

Again, that little release. Panting, he looked down to see two small damp patches.

Anders released one of his breasts and slipped a finger through his laces, up against his nipple.

He gasped.

Anders squeezed again, and if anything it was better, as though the channels were lubricated now.

That little something spurted out again, and Anders withdrew a finger covered in a milky white film.

"Is - is that...?" Carver stared in wonder, and Anders raised his finger to Carver's open mouth.

The taste of milk touched his tongue. Surprisingly sweet. He wrapped his mouth around the finger and _sucked_ \- just as Anders' other hand squeezed down on him.

He was tasting his own fresh fluid as he was being milked. And it was wonderful.

"OK, kids!" Hawke declared, knocking Carver from his reverie. "I don't need to see this. Merrill, how long is this going to last?"

Carver opened eyes he hadn't even realised he'd closed and looked at the elf.

She had the decency to look a little uncomfortable. "About a week?"

Carver stared at her, his momentary, pleasure-filled daze broken. "You can't be serious!"

Isabella folded her arms and backed Merrill up. "We have to live with this shit all the time. If he thinks he can just stare at us all the time and feel poor Merrill up and not have to think about what that's like, he'll have to live with the consequences. A couple of hours, a fondle, and a good giggle aren't going to cut it."

"Come on, Isabella," Hawke said, a little appalled now. "I think the joke's gone far enough."

"It's not a joke," Merrill said with a huff. "It's a punishment. And a lesson."

"I'm sorry," Carver said. "I said I was sorry!"

"To _me_ ," Merrill said. "But you were quite rude to Izzy and I don't think you were sorry about _that_ one bit. It's one of the reasons I agreed they'd have to be so... plentiful. And the other thing. So you'll have to get groped whether you like it or not. See how you deal with it!"

Hawke sighed. "Alright. Anders, why don't you take him home. You seem comfortable... taking care of him and I don't see anybody calming down enough to resolve this tonight. Maybe in the morning-"

"No!" Isabella interjected.

Hawke glared. "Well, we'll see."

But Carver had other concerns. "I am _not_ going back to Uncle Gamlen's like this!"

Hawke's mouth twitched in a traitorous smile. "No, I suppose that might be a bit awkward. Anders, can you take him?"

Anders rubbed his hands upwards, stimulating that pleasurable _ache_ and sense of fullness. "Of course," he said. "If you don't mind?" His chin rested on Carver's shoulder, and when he turned, he saw the question in his eyes... as well as a certain amount of flirtation.

Carver hadn't thought he was interested in men before, but maybe this new experience was bringing out parts of himself he hadn't known were there.

"Well," he said, heat rising in his cheeks. "I suppose it's better than the alternative."

Anders grinned, then tweaked his nipple, eliciting a squeak, before pushing Carver out of his lap.

"Let's go then," he said. "I imagine you'll start to get quite uncomfortable if I don't start to give you some more... dedicated help."

Flushing hot now, feeling like every inch of him was red, Carver allowed Anders to loop his coat around his shoulders, partially concealing his breasts, and they retreated from Varric's room, out into the night.


End file.
